Rebekah
I haven't known you all that long. But you are the one who so stubbornly insisted we are friends. And despite lengthy conversations about you being stubborn, and a bitch I think it was, I do not see any of what you've just said. I understand a little of what it is like to be so at war with yourself. I doubt that is a secret, at any rate. But I don't like to see it in someone like you.
I do not remember half of what I talked about that day when you were working and I was drinking. I rarely do. But I remember that you listened whilst I drew that ridiculous picture of you and talked what I can only assume was absurde. I am acutely aware that it takes immeasurable patience to put up with me sober, let alone drunk. It has been a long time since anyone has had to do both, and you have.
You made me want to tell you the name of a person I can not even speak about. I do not think I can quite describe the significance of that, or if that will mean anything to you.
It seems even now I can not say what I want without too many words. Enjolras was always the one best at speeches, anyway. But know what I know of you is good. And caring. And infinitely understanding, Rebekah.